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child poetry

a noite é escura, e os ventos do inverno
passagem através das paredes huddled e feias
deixe um sustento da alegria você
cara esposa
flor branca da espuma, flor vermelha da flama
o ar está cheio do alvorecer e da mola
ao longo dos bancos
truely
eu sou velho e cego

 



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